My New Career

MY NEW CAREER.

It must be said that I have had better times than the last twelve months have been. The trend started when the firm I worked for collapsed just before Christmas, and it got worse shortly afterwards when my wife ran away with her lover. It seems that my unexpectedly being at home so much got in the way of her sex life. Strange that, because it didn't make any difference to mine at all. There were other minor setbacks too, like when my car decided to take early retirement and when I twisted my ankle badly on my doorstep, but the two major ones were my job and my marriage. I suppose to be fair I should qualify things a bit. I can't say I liked my job very much because I had a dickhead for a boss, so that had its bright side. As for my marriage, well it hadn't always been that bad. In fact we'd been married for nearly ten years and the first few years were magical. We couldn't have kids, and that was my fault rather than hers, but we shagged like rabbits anyway. Perhaps knowing we were doing it for pure pleasure allowed us to be more experimental and adventurous, and we did pretty much everything a couple can do both to and with each other, so long as it didn't involve either other people or anything illegal. But our adventures slowly got less and less common and less and less adventurous, until finally a token fuck on alternate Saturday nights was about it. Neither of us was happy with that, but by then our relationship had deteriorated to the point where neither of us could be bothered to do anything about it.

I suppose things stopped altogether when Jake came on the scene, but I didn't know anything about him at the time. Strange, isn't it? You live with someone for the best part of a decade, but still don't see the signs. Her departure for mattresses new caught me completely by surprise, I really didn't see it coming and I never even suspected her of playing around, so when it happened I was devastated.

After that and after my ankle had healed I stayed at home most of the time, both because I was broke and because I was sure the neighbours were laughing at my misfortunes, although living on the edge of town I didn't have many neighbours anyway. Apart from the older couple living in the up-market bungalow opposite, the few I had were out at work all day in any case - lucky sods. I was reduced to gazing out of my window and feeling sorry for myself. What I didn't know was that my fortunes were about to change, and not in a way I could ever have expected.

I was at my usual post staring out of the window one morning when a strange car pulled up outside. I was instantly alert, wondering if it was someone chasing me for some unpaid bill or other, and so perhaps I paid more attention than I usually might. I couldn't see who was in it, so I'd no idea if they looked official or not, and therefore I just kept an eye on it. But the driver didn't get out and fifteen minutes later still nothing had happened. Now I began to wonder if it was someone casing the area for a later burglary, not that I'd notice too much if he turned my place over because my ex had already turned me over pretty well. In any case a more obvious target would be the place over the road. But nonetheless I was getting a bit jumpy. Then Mrs Shaw, the lady who lived there, came home from wherever she'd been, hastily parked her car and stared rather furtively at the other car before hurrying down her path. My curiosity antennae instantly went on full alert.

The Shaws are a retired couple, though she is quite a bit younger than her husband. Mr Shaw is well into his seventies, I think, and suffering from the after effects of a severe stroke. He's wheelchair bound and needs constant attention, and so every Tuesday and Thursday, and this particular day was a Tuesday, he goes to a day centre to give his wife a rest and some time to herself. I'd put her probably somewhere around the second half of her fifties, maybe just about into her sixties, although to look at her you would doubt even that. For all her years and the pressure she must live under she is still quite a good-looking woman. Grey haired and maybe a bit on the thin side, but nevertheless still attractive enough to warrant a second glance.

Anyway, after seeing that anxious look on her face I paid even more attention to the stranger parked outside my window, wondering if he had been waiting for her to get home. Sure enough, a few minutes after she had gone in a rather scruffy young man got out of the car and followed her down the path. I could see at once that he was nothing official, he had more the look of a down at heel salesman, the sort you might expect to be selling vacuum cleaners from door to door, especially when he headed straight for the back door. Now I was both curious and very concerned.

When he hadn't reappeared after a while I began to wrestle with my conscience, wondering if I should go and make sure she was all right. For all I knew this man had realised she would be alone and was busy burgling the house and murdering her. But then, it might just be someone she knew who had waited for her to return and they were now sitting chatting and drinking tea together. But somehow I doubted that, given that she hadn't acknowledged him directly when she got home, and so I gave it another few minutes and when the man had still not reappeared I plucked up the little courage I possessed and set out to check.

I didn't have the nerve to simply walk in through the front door in case he turned out to be her washing machine engineer or something and I looked a complete fool, and so I figured the best thing to do was to work my way around outside and take a cautious look through each window as I came to it. Easier said than done. Why do people, especially older people, always plant rosebushes, big thorny rosebushes, right in front of each window? But I'd made up my mind and now I was determined, and apart from that I was born nosy.

The large kitchen was empty, and so was the dining room, so that was fine. Then the lounge was also empty, and that wasn't so fine. That was where I'd expected to find them. I worked my way to the next window. A bedroom, also empty. Then another. The next window was the main bathroom and that was frosted, but I couldn't see any sign of figures through the glass. The dining room was also unoccupied, and so was the study. There was really only the main bedroom left and now I was getting really worried. Had he tied her up and slung her on the bed while he ransacked the house or did unspeakable things to her? I had to find out.

I crept up to that window and very carefully peered around the edge of it. And stopped dead. They were both there on the bed, completely naked and going at it like a pair of rabbits. That was something I hadn't been prepared for, not with a woman her age and a so much younger man. There was no way she wasn't willing either, because she was on her back with her legs wide and her arms wrapped around his back holding him tight on top of her. She was looking directly at me with one of those shocked ‘oh no, how embarrassing' looks on her face. I ducked back out of sight, which was a little bit pointless as she'd obviously already seen me, and wondered what the hell to make of it all, and then I very carefully risked another peek through the window. I wasn't dreaming, Mrs Shaw was on the bed, legs apart, being energetically fucked by the young stranger, her bright blue eyes fixed on me as I peered in at them, and making no attempt to push him away. For his part, he wasn't even aware of his spectator and was enthusiastically banging away at his older lover. I ducked back and leaned against the wall, trying to take in what I had seen. It would never have occurred to me that a woman of her age should want a young stud in bed, but she obviously did. Eventually I came to the conclusion that it was none of my business and I quietly made my way back home. At least I could rest happy that she wasn't being violated.

For the next couple of hours or so I couldn't get the sight out of my mind. Never ever did I expect the aging and well-bred Mrs Shaw to have a lover of any sort, and especially not one so much younger and so obviously unsuitable. It wasn't as if she was ugly, I mean, yes she was getting on a bit, but from what bits I could see she hadn't gone completely to seed. I was sure she could have done better than him, probably with someone nearer her own age and standing. But then I supposed there was no accounting for taste. I still couldn't get it out of my mind though, and there was also the thought that I ought to apologise to her the next time I saw her for creeping around like some disreputable voyeur. And then my doorbell rang.

‘Can I come in?'

Mrs Shaw did not look as angry as I expected her to be, nor did she look as terribly discomfited as I would have been. In fact I probably looked more shamefaced and embarrassed than she did. We sat opposite each other in the lounge and after a couple of minute's awkward silence she looked across at me.

‘I can count on you not to speak to anyone about what you saw earlier, can't I?'

‘Of course, I shan't say anything.' I told her, feeling guilty for spying on them.

‘Good, because your discretion is important. I didn't expect anyone to see us and I certainly don't want Jonathan to find out.'

‘I ought to explain.' I began. ‘I saw your friend waiting outside for ages before you came home and when he followed you in I thought he might be up to no good. I didn't mean to spy on you, honestly.'

She didn't comment on my excuses. Instead she said ‘I think I need to clarify things a little.'

‘You don't need to. I mean it's none of my business who calls on you and what for.'

‘Even so....' She seemed to run out of steam a bit. ‘Maybe you could make us each a coffee while I work out how to explain?'

I did as I was asked and placed a cup of coffee, in one of my best cups, in front of her before sitting back down and waiting for her to begin again.

‘You won't see that man again.' She began. ‘He wasn't at all what I wanted.'

Seemed a strange thing to say, but then it was a strange situation.

She sat back, fidgeted, sighed and then launched into a fuller explanation. ‘You realise, I am sure, that Jonathan is a good bit older than me, and he's not very well either.' I nodded that I did. ‘So although nature has put his fire out, mine is still burning.' She paused again to see if I understood, then went on when I nodded again. ‘Now I could easily find someone within our social circle to satisfy my needs, and God knows I've had enough offers, but there's not many of them that I would want to take to bed even if I was prepared to risk them letting it slip to Jonathan.' She broke off again to look me in the eye. ‘The point is that the man you saw this morning was someone recommended to me by a friend. He is not my lover in the romantic sense, nor ever could be. He was there for one reason and one reason only, to scratch my itch. He charges for his services and so he guarantees discretion. I hope you will be just as discreet about seeing us together?'

So the man was some sort of gigolo, who'd have thought it? Never mind, not my business. ‘I'm not the sort of person to go around spreading gossip, Mrs Shaw. I was concerned for your welfare, that's all.'

She smiled. ‘And I believe you, and I thank you for it. However, I just wanted to make you aware of the situation and why I need it keeping private.' She suddenly giggled girlishly. ‘Mind you, I don't suppose many people would believe that a sixty-six year old woman still needed sex anyway.'

Sixty-six! I really would not have believed that if anyone else had told me.

‘If they went by the age you look, then they would.' I spoke without thinking. I was so surprised it just came out.

She smiled and took a sip of her coffee. ‘Thank you. It's nice to receive a compliment.' I could almost see the brownie points clocking up.

We sat silently drinking coffee for a few minutes. It seemed our conversation had finished before the coffee, but there was a question I was getting up the courage to ask.

‘If you don't mind my asking?' I began. ‘What made you pick someone you have to pay? I mean, there are plenty of men who like older women on ordinary dating sites.'

‘Because I already have a partner I love.' She told me seriously. ‘I don't need any romantic overtones; they would just confuse the issue. I just needed someone to take me to bed, someone who could satisfy my body without playing with my emotions. I know it sounds cold, but I just want someone to turn up, give me what I want and go away again.'

‘And the guy today didn't do that?'

‘No, he did not.' She sounded quite indignant. ‘He was more interested in satisfying himself. I suspect he is just someone with a fetish for older women, and who wants to cash in on his inclinations. He didn't seem bothered about my pleasure at all. But then I suppose I can blame you in part too, because you did put me off my stride by appearing at the window like that.'

‘I'm sorry.' I told her, meaning it. ‘I didn't know what was happening.'

‘It doesn't matter; I don't think it would have made much difference. As soon as he finished he just rolled away. He wasn't interested in if I'd finished or not, and I hadn't. For the amount he charged I did expect him to at least make an effort. But I'll make very sure the next one will do what I want.' I noticed the words ‘the next one' and the heavy emphasis on the ‘I'. Obviously she hadn't been put off the idea of paying for sex altogether, but then she could afford it.

‘Was he expensive?' I asked, again speaking without thinking. I expected her to refuse to answer on the grounds that it was none of my business, but there had been a kind of connection build between us in that very short time and she answered without hesitation. And then, when she told me his hourly rate I was so shocked I'd spoken before I could stop myself.

‘Just for an hour?' I exclaimed. ‘Bloody hell, you could have me all day for that.'

There was an absolute dead silence as soon as I said it. Both of us were wondering if I meant it. I certainly hadn't said it with any intention of following through, but I immediately wondered if I could. I mean, I could certainly use that sort of money, but if it would mean having sex with a woman almost exactly twice my age I didn't know if I could, especially one from such a different social class and who had already said that her next partner would have to do things her way. Meanwhile Mrs Shaw was eying me up and down critically as if weighing up the possibilities.

‘I don't think I could last all day.' She announced finally.

‘Nor could I.' I responded. ‘Not without a break anyway.'

There was another long thoughtful pause with the pair of us looking at each other, both having a good idea what the other was thinking but unable to make up our own mind. It was the sort of silence that could have gone on and on until the subject was changed out of sheer cowardice. Fortunately Mrs Shaw was not the sort to let things go without trying to breach the wall from a different angle.

‘Are you shocked that an older woman should want to get laid?' She asked me.

‘I suppose I am a little.' I admitted. ‘I sort of imagined the urge retired when you did.' I tried to make a joke of it.

‘That's more often true for men rather than for women. That's why so many older women are left frustrated - like me.'

‘I guess so.'

‘But you've not got a partner right now, have you.' She changed direction just enough ‘So doesn't a young man like you get frustrated too.'

‘Sometimes, yes.' I told her truthfully. ‘But I don't want another romance right now and I can't afford to pay for it.'

When I said that I hadn't realised how neatly I was setting myself up.

‘But I can.' She stated bluntly, saying nothing more as the implications slowly sank in.

‘Are you suggesting...?' I asked, trailing into silence.

‘I think I am.' She smiled again. ‘If you're not too fussy about someone older.'

‘No, it's not that.' I hastened to assure her. ‘I'm just not sure if I can do it to order. But the money would sure be handy.'

I'd pretty much agreed without realising it with that last remark. It was just a question of settling the terms.

‘You'd need to earn it.' She informed me. ‘I don't want someone to just have sex with me. I want someone to make love to me, properly, and do it the way I want it done. I've made up my mind that next time I'm not just going to let someone get it off at my expense. I want to be completely satisfied. Is that too much to ask?'

‘No it isn't and I like the idea.' I told her truthfully as I realised with some surprise that the idea of taking care of someone else's pleasure appealed to me. My problem was that I didn't want to disappoint her and a pensioner for a partner might be a bit too much for my cock to handle. ‘I'm just not sure if it will work.'

‘We could always give it a try.' She tipped her head to one side to make the statement into a question.

I nodded slowly, still letting the proposition sink in. After all, there would be no relationship problems, I'd get laid and paid, and she wasn't bad looking if you allowed for the years. But I was still hesitant and she could see it.

‘What say I come across next Tuesday morning and we'll see how it goes? If it works I'll pay you and we'll make it a regular thing, and if it doesn't then no harm done.'

Put like that, what could I say? ‘All right, why not?'

‘Two things.' She stated her conditions. ‘You mustn't say anything to anyone - anyone at all.' She paused and looked hard at me ‘And my pleasure must come first. Can you agree to that?'

‘Agreed.'

And that was that. All I had to do now was wait until Tuesday and I had a guaranteed shag. Well, that was the way I had to look at it.

Tuesday seemed to take a hell of a while to come around, and by then another bill meant that I was even more in need of the cash. I was determined to earn it.

‘If anyone ever sees me.' She said as she came in. ‘I've come for advice on how to use my Smartphone, is that all right?'

‘Yes, fine.' I answered as we went through into the lounge, noticing happily that she had already assumed that this wouldn't be her only visit. ‘Coffee?'

‘Yes please.' She concurred. ‘There are a couple of things we need to talk about anyway.'

I wasn't sure I like the sound of that, but I went to make the coffee without comment.

‘Now.' She asked when I came back. ‘Do you want to wear one of those silly rubber things? Because I'd prefer you didn't, but if you need to, you can. That other man insisted.'

I'd not heard condoms referred to as ‘those silly rubber things' before, but I didn't want to wear one either, and I couldn't see her carrying anything nasty, especially if her previous partner had insisted on using one.

‘No.' I told her firmly. ‘I'd like it bareback.'

‘Bareback!' She had obviously not come across the term before. ‘Yes, then bareback it will be.'

‘I also need to know.' She continued. ‘Are you prepared to try different things to find out what works best for us? Because I need to enjoy myself and so you're no good to me if you aren't.'

‘Yes, of course. Whatever you like.'

‘I ask because I might want a little variety sometimes, not every time but sometimes, and so I need to know where exactly do you draw the line?'

I didn't know. My experimentations with my ex-wife had never reached that point.

‘I don't know.' I told her. ‘I've never been pressed to find where the line is.'

‘Nor have I.' She assured me. ‘We'll have to find out for ourselves.'

I looked at her, wondering for just a moment what I might have let myself in for.

‘Don't worry.' She must have read my anxiety. ‘I'm not kinky, just maybe a little exploratory at times.'

‘I'm not worried about that.' I told her honestly. ‘I just don't want to let you down.'

‘I'm sure you won't.' She smiled. ‘Shall we go upstairs?' She climbed to her feet, clearly eager to get started.

I ushered her towards the stairs, glad that I'd spent yesterday cleaning up my bedroom and changing the sheets. As she reached the bottom of the stairs suddenly she turned to me as if remembering something.

‘I'm just about to go to bed with you, and I don't know your name.'

‘I'm Vincent, or Vince.' I told her.

‘And my name is Mary.'

What a time to introduce ourselves.

She let me lead the way upstairs and then I ushered her into the bedroom - my newly cleaned and tidied bedroom. I'd left the curtains drawn since getting up that morning so that nobody would notice them being closed just after my visitor arrived and put two and two together, so I switched the light on and let her look around. I could see her registering approval of what she saw, thanks mainly to my wife making the tasteful choices that I'd luckily not yet got around to replacing.

‘If you're ready, Vincent.' She began. ‘I'd like you to undress me.'

This was plainly going to be the most businesslike session that I'd ever had - but then I suppose it actually was business. I walked forward and began to unbutton her blouse while she just stood there and let me. Soon she was stripped naked with all her clothes draped over a bedroom chair, and looking a lot more inviting than I'd expected. Somehow I'd expected her to be shy and perhaps a little embarrassed, but not a bit of it. She stood there in front of me, her feet planted a little way apart, deliberately letting me look at her - and it must be said that I was pleasantly surprised by what I saw.

When I'd seen her with her gigolo partner I'd been too surprised to take much in. In any case he was covering most of her and so in reality I was seeing her for the first time. Perhaps I'd been dreading her being nothing but a sack of scrawny sags, with empty tits hanging in front of her and with wrinkles on top of wrinkles, but she was so much better than that. It must be said that her age was showing in her somewhat skinny limbs and in breasts that were lower than they once had been, but she was still more sexually attractive than I'd thought she would be. It was also true that she had a more exuberant and wayward bush than a younger woman would sport, but that wasn't a problem. Maybe earning my money would be easier and more enjoyable than I'd anticipated.

‘Not too bad, am I?' She smiled, as if reading my thoughts.

I felt myself go red. ‘Yes - I mean, no,' I faltered, hearing her giggle girlishly at my embarrassment. I pulled myself together. ‘Actually, you're pretty damn good.'

‘Well, thank you kind sir.' She laughed, and pirouetted to show me a surprisingly trim bottom. ‘Maybe I was once, but I'll take all the compliments I can get these days. But now it's your turn.'

I thought I knew what she meant and so I crossed my arms and took a hold of my sweatshirt, intent on pulling it over my head.

‘No.' Her voice came quite sharply, underlining who was in control. ‘Perhaps I should have said it's my turn.'

She came across and took hold herself, pulling my top over my head in one practised sweep and dropping it onto the chair with her things. My jeans followed in short order and then everything else, so that I was soon standing as naked as she was, with my cock twitching into hardness before me.

‘I see you don't find the prospect too repulsive.' She smiled down at my growing erection.

‘Not a chance.' I assured her, wondering what to do next.

I needn't have worried, she had it all planned out. She took my hand and led me towards the bed, my own bed, and then climbed on, patting the space beside her. ‘Come on, we not going to do it standing up.'

I went and lay down beside her, rolling onto my side to look at her.

‘I told you I want to be made love to my way, didn't I?' She asked, reminding me of our agreement. ‘Especially this first time.'

I nodded my answer without speaking, my eyes roaming up and down the length of her body and really not disliking what I saw.

‘Then kiss me.'

For some reason I hadn't expected to do that and for one insane and disconcerting moment I had a vision of kissing her and dislodging a set of dentures from behind her creased lips. I drew back in surprise, thinking that I'd reached the first stumbling block quicker than I'd imagined.

‘Kiss me.' She demanded again. ‘It is part of making love after all.'

She was right; it is a very basic part of lovemaking and I'd signed up to making love to her. And in any case, I told myself, I could see that she didn't have dentures.

The happy thing about kissing someone is that you're expected to close your eyes and so I did, and that led me to a surprising discovery. Her body against mine felt no different to a younger woman's, her skin felt the same as anyone else's, and her kiss was just as enjoyable as any I've experienced. And most importantly, my cock agreed. If it was going to fail me then I'd figured this would be the moment, but instead it pressed rock hard against her belly. To my surprise I was actively enjoying kissing a woman so much older than myself - and that had great potential for my prospects.

That first kiss was experimental, as if we were both testing the water, but then, the test having been passed, we kissed again, this time with our tongues probing and exploring like long term lovers. It was nice, I mean it was really nice, and we carried on, our arms around each other, hands roaming, lips and tongues playing enthusiastically. I could feel Mary's body pushing against mine, her breasts on my chest and the rough curls of her bush on my belly as we held each other close. Then I began to hear little noises coming from her throat and vibrating in my mouth, noises that told me she was enjoying everything just as much as I was. When we finally pulled apart a little we were both slightly out of breath and smiling happily.

‘I think that was a good start.' She told me, holding me away enough to look directly at me. Close up she still looked attractive and I came to the instant conclusion that grey hair and blue eyes look fabulous together.

‘So do I.' I told her, leaning forward hesitantly to kiss her a third time, half expecting her to remind me who called the shots. But she didn't and our mouths locked together again. This time as we kissed I felt her hand slide down my arm and onto my hip, pausing there before working its way between us and wrapping itself around my cock. I eased away slightly to give her more room, maintaining the kiss even as she began to stroke my shaft, running a cool hand up and down its length.

She took her lips from mine and whispered in my ear. ‘I was just checking if I liked what you've got for me, and I do.'

I smiled. ‘Thank you.'

‘And you might like to check me out as well, seeing as I'm likely to be more dilapidated.' My cheek felt a mischievous smile spread across her face.

‘Surely not?' I whispered back, my own hand working its way between us to find her breast.

‘Find out for yourself, and then you tell me.'

I sensed that she wouldn't want me just to flatter her, and then I found telling the truth was easy anyway. I squeezed her breast in my hand, feeling her hard nipple press into my palm, and that also felt far nicer than I'd imagined for someone so much older. She wasn't as firm as a twenty-something girl, but she couldn't expect to be.

‘You feel nice' I told her. ‘And you've got lovely nipples.'

She chuckled in my ear. ‘I admire your diplomacy.' She teased. ‘Nothing good to say about my breasts, so just lovely nipples.'

‘But they're both nice, but your nipples especially.' I protested, gently squeezing the one in my hand. ‘They're long and hard and they feel lovely.'

‘Suck them then.' She let go of my cock expectantly. ‘See if they taste as good.'

That was no hardship at all. I disentangled myself from her embrace and wriggled a little lower on the bed, leaning over as she settled on her back and fastening my mouth around one nipple and my hand over the other.

Remembering what my ex used to like I started by using just my tongue, running it softly around her areole and then across the tip of the nipple itself, round and round, making it just a little firmer each time, until I was licking her hard, flicking my tongue across her nubbin to make it rebound harder and longer than ever. At the same time I was lightly pinching her other breast, drawing it into a peak between my fingers by tugging at her nipple. I could hear hissing intakes of breath and her one of her hands laid itself lightly over my head, holding me gently in place. Then I drew my lips over my teeth and nibbled at her, pulling at that nipple too, stretching it until it slipped from my mouth and bounced back, only to be taken between my lip-shielded teeth once more.

‘Play with me down below.' She demanded suddenly, pushing my hand away from her breast in case I hadn't understood.

I let my hand be pushed lower until it reached her pubic mound, and then I reached between her widespread legs, running my fingers through her wiry hair and cupping her pussy neatly in my hand, feeling warm dampness on my palm.

‘Play with me.' She insisted huskily. ‘Rub my clitoris.'

It seemed weird to hear a sophisticated older woman talking like that, but I knew what she wanted and I obeyed willingly enough, seeking out her clit and stroking two fingers across its tip. Just like her nipples it was long and hard - and sensitive. I quickly felt her body give little jerks in response to my movements, twitching as my fingers rubbed her button. All the time I played with her I still kept licking and sucking at her nipple until soon she was gripping me tightly and gasping from the sensations.

‘Oh my!' She murmured, almost to herself. ‘It's going to happen.'

And happen it did. Hardly had the words left her lips than she groaned loudly, her pelvis lifted from the bed and her entire body went stiff. She held that position for what seemed like ages, making a series of harsh little sounds in her throat before, as quickly as it had arrived, her orgasm passed and she collapsed back onto the bed, panting for breath. I stopped playing and just rested my hand on her pussy, feeling surprised but very pleased with myself. I hadn't imagined she would come so easily.

‘Heavens.' She gasped. ‘That was wonderful. I can't ever remember coming that quickly. I guess I must have needed it.'

‘I guess you did.' I agreed, laying my cheek on her breast and trying hard not to sound smug.

I made to take my hand away, intent really on moving back up the bed and giving her a kind of congratulatory kiss, but she quickly reached down and grabbed my wrist, holding me in place.

‘No, don't stop, I want to come again yet.' She commanded urgently.

‘Good, I want you to.' I told her, meaning it. I was starting to find my time with Mary pretty exciting, a whole lot more so than I'd expected. It was a revelation to me that a woman of her age could be so easily aroused and so sexy, and I wanted to see how far that went. Of course, I also wanted to make sure I got paid. She said she would pay me and make it regular if it worked out, so this was like a kind of audition and if I passed I would get the job. And what a job, servicing an attractive older woman and getting well paid for it. So yes, I did want her to come for a second time.

I began to play with her again, letting my fingertips flick the head of her clit where I could feel it peeping from under its hood, doing it gently at first but then as she began to react, more firmly and more rapidly. She soon started to make little noises again and her hand gripped my shoulder, revealing her renewed arousal. I smiled to myself, as if feeling her pleasure myself. I wasn't sucking at her nipple this time, but resting my cheek on her breast and looking down her belly, so my smile went unnoticed. It was nice to watch even if I could see very little, although I could see the quick movements of my hand as I rubbed her clit, and I could see the muscles of her thighs and belly tighten irregularly as the pleasure of it got through to her.

I think she must have realised what I was doing, because suddenly she asked ‘Are you looking at me?'

‘Yes.' I answered simply, expecting her to disapprove.

‘What can you see?'

‘Not very much.' I told her, uncertain if she wanted me to see her pussy or not. The uncertainty didn't last long.

‘Move then.' She told me, her voice thick with arousal. ‘Move down so that you can see what you're doing.'

I glanced up at her in surprise at her instruction.

‘Move down.' She repeated, frowning slightly. ‘Move to where you can look at my pussy, I know it sounds strange, but I want you to watch what you are doing to me.'

That was another surprise; she hadn't seemed the type to be crude. But whether it was crude or not, I was hers to command. Taking my hand away for the moment I wriggled down the bed so that I was propping myself on one elbow just about level with her knee, and then I reached back towards her pussy.

‘Just a moment.' She instructed.

I stopped and waited, not sure what she intended until I saw her pull her nearest leg right back and swing it over me so that I was crouching between her wide open legs. Then she reached down with both hands and pulled open her labia, holding them back with her thumbs.

‘Now.' She asked. ‘What can you see?'

I felt my eyes widen in astonishment at her directness. ‘I can see everything.' I told her, not sure what she wanted to hear.

‘Can you see my little soldier?' She asked girlishly. ‘Is it on parade?'

‘Yes,' I told her. ‘It's all swollen and red, and lovely.'

‘What about my hole? Can you see inside me?'

I could see both holes, but I knew which one she meant, and yes, I could see inside her, she was wet and gaping, slippery with juices. ‘Yes, I can. You're wide open and shiny, waiting for me whenever you want me.'

It was a strange conversation and it both shocked and aroused me in equal measure. From a young sexy woman it might be expected, but from a woman of her age and class it was an eye opener, but then Mary Shaw was obviously far from being as reserved as one might expect. In fact she seemed very uninhibited and more than a little exhibitionistic. I was getting an express lesson in the sexual nature of mature women, and it was coming as a welcome surprise.

‘Do you like what you see?' She asked.

‘Oh yes, definitely.' I answered without hesitation. What's not to like about gazing at a woman's wet pussy?

‘Play with me then. Make me come again.'

My hand went to her pussy as if of its own accord and began to play with her clit, my two fingers straddling her button and rubbing from side to side. At first they worked slowly and gently but then I rubbed harder and quicker as I felt her begin to twitch and writhe under my touch. It was working, but I wanted to do more, I wanted to push my fingers inside her, to finger her as well so that she would come harder than before. I was still looking to make sure this became a regular source of income, and so I took the risk and moved my fingers away for a moment.

‘Don't stop.' She instructed me at once. ‘I want you to make me come again.'

I didn't answer, I simply made a gun from my first two fingers and thrust them hard into her gaping vagina, with my thumb, like a revolver's hammer, banging up against her clit. She jerked and gasped in surprise before relaxing back.

‘You devil.' She gasped. ‘I didn't say you could do that.' She paused. ‘But thank you.'

I smiled to myself and carried on finger-fucking her. My two fingers plunging into her slippery passage and my thumb ramming onto her button. She was still holding herself wide open, giving me a fantastic view of her shining and soaking wet pussy. I could even hear little squelching noises as my fingers moved in and out of her. Soon she was shuddering with arousal once again, her hips pushing at me each time I thrust into her.

And then she was there, her second orgasm arriving just as suddenly as her first, and causing the same fabulous reactions. She didn't warn me this time, she just came, groaning noisily deep in her throat and lifting her pelvis high from the bed before collapsing back to slump panting and trembling, her hands falling away from her pussy and her legs dropping onto the bed to either side of me.

For a moment or two she just lay there and I simply waited, my motionless fingers still buried deep inside her pussy, but then she licked her dry lips and pushed my hand away.

‘Suck your fingers.' She commanded, still breathless.

I looked at her without moving, shocked by what she had asked.

‘Go on, do it.' She repeated. ‘Suck my juice off of your fingers.'

It was not something I'd ever done before, or been asked to, but I found my hand moving towards my lips almost of its own free will. Without taking my eyes from hers I opened my mouth and pushed my fingers in, licking her moisture from them and then showing her that they were clean. She tasted lovely, a lovely turned-on woman taste.

‘Good. Now lick me.' She was smiling at me, clearly pleased with the way things were going.

Just for a moment my mind baulked at the idea. She was so much older than me and I had just been staring at her relatively slack and hirsute pussy held wide open by slightly arthritic knuckles, and it abruptly seemed a less than attractive sight. But then I remembered I'd already tasted her and I recalled how I'd felt about kissing her on the mouth, and how wrong I'd been about that too, and so all of a sudden the idea didn't seem anything like so repellent.

So I moved to be sprawled between her legs, my hands at the top of her thighs to push them back and my thumbs holding her labia apart, and my face only a few inches from her pussy. For a moment or two I stayed there, gazing at her shiny flesh and savouring the aroma of a woman's arousal, and then I slowly lowered my mouth to her slit.

If anyone had told me a week or so before that I would be going down on a pensioner, I would have laughed and told them not to be so stupid, but here I was doing just that, and more to the point I found I liked doing it, regardless of the payment I was receiving. I put out my tongue as I neared her pussy and licked it from one end to the other, unexpectedly enjoying the experience. I was used to her taste now, and I loved it, letting the flat of my tongue run all the way up and down her pussy, pushing it into her hole and then flicking the tip of her clit with it. She gasped with each little flick; a quiet little ‘oh' and a tiny jerk of her hips showing how much she liked it.

It didn't take long before her gasps became louder and her movements stronger, and I smiled to myself, sure that I was going to bring her off for a third time. But Mary is nothing if not unpredictable, and suddenly she pushed me away, swung her leg back over me and sat up, breathing heavily.

‘What's the matter?' I asked, confused and disappointed, and fearing for my pay.

She shook her head and then gasped. ‘Nothing.'

I must still have looked confused, because she licked her lips and tried to explain between breaths. ‘You nearly made me come again.'

I waited, wondering why that would be a problem.

‘I can't keep coming like that; I don't make it beyond twice usually.' She took a deep breath. ‘And I want to climax when you enter me.'

I smiled as she explained, listening to her quaint phrasing, and then I abruptly realised that I hadn't failed - I'd been better than she expected.

‘I'm not as young as I was.' She went on. ‘And my heart is pounding like mad. Give me a minute to get my breath and then we'll do it.'

We lay side by side on the bed while she regained her equilibrium, looking at each other and smiling. She looked at my cock, standing proud and waiting to be used, and then she reached down and began to stroke it gently.

‘Can we make this a regular thing?' She asked softly, almost pleading instead of assuming.

My heart leapt, I'd obviously passed her test before even having full sex with her, and I was looking forward to that. I nodded eagerly.

She smiled and then looked at me curiously, opened her mouth to speak, closed it again, and then finally. ‘Would you be interested in two more customers?'

‘Who?' It was a silly question really, she would clearly have to tell me anyway, but it was the first thing that jumped into my mind.

‘Would you be interested?' She asked again, still running her fingers up and down my shaft. ‘At the same rate as I'll pay?'

‘Well yes, of course.' I answered, seeing my money worries receding quickly.

‘One of them, Diane, is the lady who recommended that other person to me. She's a widow and she's my sort of age, and I feel sure she'd rather visit you. The other one is Karen; she's the daughter of another friend of mine, so she's a bit younger, forty-something I think. She's married but things aren't going so well, so you will be discreet won't you?'

‘Of course, that goes without saying.'

‘Then I'll introduce you to them, but one at a time.' She saw my questioning look. ‘They know each other, but they wouldn't want each other to know they're seeing you. So don't say anything.'

‘I won't.' I promised, overjoyed at the prospect for the sake of both my wallet and my cock.

‘Good.' She scrambled up and knelt on all fours. ‘Then come on, let's do it.'

It was very obvious what she meant and so I quickly knelt behind her. I was as eager for this as she was. I held her still with one hand as I guided my cock towards her with the other, easily finding her entrance and sliding straight into her wet warmth. I shuffled closer, pushing in deep as I gripped her rather bony hips and pulled her towards me. She groaned with pleasure.

‘That's it.' She whispered hoarsely over her shoulder. ‘Now just do it, all the way.'

I did just that, thrusting myself into her, feeling her push back at each thrust, gasping and moaning as we fucked. Suddenly she folded her arms and dropped her head so that her bottom stood high, helping me to push in even deeper. Very soon she began the same little jerks and twitches, gasping just as she had done before, and I knew she was near.

I wasn't, not quite anyway. I could feel the very beginnings, the tightening of my balls and the extra sensations in my cock, but I wasn't going to come as quickly as she was. I speeded up, hoping to beat her to it. I needed to come, I'd seen her come twice and I'd got nothing so far in return. Yes I know I was going to be paid, but my body didn't care about that, it just wanted to empty my balls into Mary's pussy.

I didn't quite make it, she beat me to it, going stiff as she had before and then relaxing with a hefty sigh as her orgasm passed. She would have slumped forward onto the bed, but I was close and I didn't want to stop, and so I held her to me by the hips, ramming my cock in and out of her pussy, hoping I wasn't spoiling my chances for the future but unable to resist. She didn't tell me to stop and so I kept going, my thrusts becoming wilder and more erratic as I got closer. Suddenly I was there too and I held her to me, my cock pressed inside her as far as it would go. I was wriggling slightly as my cock pumped spurt after spurt of cum into her hole and jerking my pelvis as I tried to impale her deeper. But she didn't object, she just knelt her passively until I'd finished and released her hips so that she could slump forward onto the bed with me collapsing alongside her. She looked sideways at me, a tiny smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

‘I haven't been done like that for a long while.' She told me quietly. ‘Thank you, it was wonderful.'

I just nodded and smiled, far too short of breath to reply properly.

‘Roll onto your back.' She ordered abruptly.

I did as she asked, just about able to summon the energy, and then looked at her enquiringly. She didn't answer, she just moved around so that she was kneeling beside me and then, very suddenly, she lowered her mouth to my cock, taking it's wilting length right into her mouth, her tongue moving over it, licking it clean of my cum and her own juices. It was the last thing I expected and for a moment I tried to jerk away. But her hand closed warningly around the base of my shaft, and I let her do it, flinching a little as her tongue and lips moved over my climax sensitised cock. Eventually, as my cock subsided into a flaccid little tassel she let go and sat up again, smiling broadly.

‘I've always wanted to do that.' She explained, and then giggled. ‘I just wish I could reach to do it to myself afterwards.'

I didn't know how to answer, so I just smiled back. ‘It was nice.'

For a few minutes we lay side by side, not saying anything but just thinking about what had happened. Then, without making any comment, Mary climbed from the bed and picked up her purse. She stopped, looked at me, took out some money and then counted the notes onto my cupboard. ‘You're worth it.' She told me. ‘Much better than that other man.'

She started to pull on her clothes while I just lay there and watched, and thinking about how much I had enjoyed an older woman.

‘If she wants to come, and I think she will, I'll bring Diane round to meet you on Friday. And I'll introduce you to Karen next week, if that's all right?'

‘Yes, that's fine.' I told her.

‘You must make whatever arrangements you like with her but, please, promise to keep Tuesday mornings free for me, won't you?'

‘I promise.' I told her, glowing inside that I'd found a way to earn money that promised to be very, very enjoyable. In fact it was more than just a way to earn money, it was a whole new career, and I intended to be the best at it.